Who cares who I am, my name, or what I'm about? Likely no one. So I'm just here to say the things.

My childhood was a garbage waste of time—nothing but poverty and bullies. I do not have a single good memory. My parents were abusive, negligent, selfish monsters, and the kids I grew up with weren't much better. The gaslighting, financial, and emotional abuse were enough that my siblings and I had nothing to do with one another. We're strangers who happened to grow up in the same filthy, broken-down house.

My adulthood - not much better. I did everything I was supposed to and have nothing to show for it. I don't have hopes or ambitions anymore. I'm pretty passionless, a husk who runs on autopilot most days. After decades of kindness, trying to be the bigger person, going above and beyond, assuming the best in others, and putting in extra effort, I never found "my purpose" or was given the bare minimum of kindness and concern for my safety. Now, I'm just burnt out and bitter. A lifetime of being unloved will do that.

My general response to life at this point:

"I don't accept apologies anymore. You did what made you happy and was the easiest path for you at the expense of my emotions and well-being. I understand it. Doesn't mean I have to respect or accept it."

Another favorite quote, "Right now, tonight, I'm not going to pretend it's OK."